Wasted
by st.elmo-lover
Summary: Dean doesn't go to Lisa to make a family after Sam's death. He goes to Jo. And it doesn't work out quite like either of them thought it would. AU.
1. Apple Pie Life

_Dean doesn't go to Lisa to make a family after Sam's death. He goes to Jo. And it doesn't work out quite like either of them thought it would. AU._

_Alright, so I really got this idea from a song. Well, the song got me to write it. I've had the idea bouncing around in my head for a while. This story is AU. Ash didn't die in the bar explosion. And Ellen and Jo didn't die distracting the hell hounds. This takes place after season five. The summary pretty much tells you that it's Jo Dean goes to after Sam's plunge into the pit, and not Lisa. This is how I think it should have gone._

Sam had told him to go out and get a life, to go out and live the apple pie life everyone had always been talking about but that Dean had never enjoyed. He had told Dean to make the best out of not being a hunter. Dean could guess that Sam had meant Lisa, that Sam had meant go to Lisa, be the husband he could be, and the father he wanted to be.

But there was someone he couldn't forget, someone he couldn't leave behind. There was someone that had always been present in the back of his mind, always making him worry and wonder. There was someone he knew he could love like he had never loved before.

It had never been the right time or place for him and Jo. It had never been under the right circumstances. There had always been that underlying tension, but both of them had had the common sense not to do anything about it. Before, when he was a hunter, he knew nothing good would come out of a relationship with her. Before, when she had wanted to hunt and be the woman she knew she could be, she knew he would only tie her down, only break her heart. Even when they had teamed up together for what they thought might be their last night on Earth, she had still rejected him. She had held on to her dignity and that part that so desperately wanted to be more to him than the last fuck he would ever get. He had respected her for it but mourned her decision all the same. He didn't think she had understood what he really meant, because she would have been more to him than the last fuck he would ever have. If they had spent the night together, it would have given him something he could hold onto till the end. It would have fulfilled something for him he had been hoping for since the first time he met her.

He would never forget that first time they had met. He would never forget that instant feeling of attraction. She had punched him like no other girl had and it had been that moment he realized she was something different. He knew she could handle the life, knew she could hold her own and protect herself. But that hadn't meant he wanted her to have to handle it. He had agreed with her mother since the beginning. Jo could handle herself in the hunting business, but she was worth so much more.

He hoped he could show her that.

The front of the bar was silent.

And the front of the bar was never silent, even if the bar was closed.

Ellen could always hear Jo. It had become a sixth sense. Her mothering instincts were a sixth sense. But she couldn't hear Jo now. She couldn't even hear the occasional snore that usually came from Ash when he was passed out in a random spot around the bar.

The hair on her arms stood on end. These were dangerous times and she had become accustomed to always keeping one ear on Jo. The thought that something had happened to her daughter while she was in the same room scared the shit out of her. She was already having constant memories of the hell hounds and how she had barely gotten her daughter out alive. She couldn't handle a repeat.

"Jo!" She called, as she reached under the kitchen counter for her sawed off shotgun. She waited with baited breath for an answer, but got none. "Joanna!" She tried again, her heart pounding in her ears. "Answer me!"

She tried to keep her steps fast and confident as she made her way towards the swinging door that would lead her into the bar. She took a glance out the window, trying to gauge any danger that might be in the bar before she fully revealed herself. When she saw none, she cautiously pushed open the door and stepped out.

The first thing she saw was Ash sitting up on the pool table. His mouth was agape and he had the most dumb founded expression she had ever seen him wear. He was staring at something Ellen had yet to notice and if it were possible, the hairs on her arms stood even straighter and a shiver ran down her spine.

"What's going on?" She asked him quietly. She got no answer. He only continued to stare towards the front door of the bar. She quickly abandoned all hopes of getting him to answer her and slowly turned towards the front door.

What she saw made her gape, too. And it made her eyes well up with tears.

There, in the front of her bar, was one Dean Winchester. He looked like hell.

And he had tears streaming down his face.

And standing in front of him was her one and only daughter, a discarded towel at her feet. Her eyes were also filled with tears but they were also full of something else. Something Ellen really wished wasn't directed at Dean.


	2. Moment Alone

After a few shots of their finest whiskey, Dean had told them the whole story, had told them every detail they didn't know. He told them everything that had happened after Jo's near death. He had told them about finding the rings, about the idea of letting the devil into Sam's body. He told them about how it went wrong. Wrong, at least, right up until the end.

He could barely contain his sobs when he told them the part where Sammy, the devil still in his body, has fallen down the whole to hell, never to return again. Ellen had lined up a few more shots for him on the bar and went back to the kitchen. There was something in Dean's eyes that told her he needed to speak to her daughter alone.

Ash had gotten the hint a few minutes later as well and had looked himself in his lair.

Dean took his shots down one at a time before turning to face Jo fully. The pain in his eyes almost ripped her heart apart. She wished at that moment, more than any other time that she had met him, that she could do something for him. But she tried not to let the pity show in her eyes. She knew that wasn't what he was looking for.

She didn't really know what he was looking for. After she had made it back barely alive from their last hunt together, Dean hadn't said more than two words to her. She suspected it was because of guilt. He probably blamed himself for her brush with death. And he handled that guilt by having nothing to do with her.

"You know," He cleared his throat and looked down at his dirtied and bloodied hand on his knee. "Before he…" He paused again. He couldn't say it, she realized. "He told me that if things went bad, he wanted me to go out and get myself an apple pie life. I know he probably meant Lisa…" Dean trailed off again, his eyes faraway in thought.

Jo simply raised her eyebrow. She had never heard of this Lisa woman and she had never heard of Dean wanting an apple pie life.

"And Ben," Dean began again. "But I don't want them. I don't need them." He shook his head and the look he was giving her would have made her knees melt if she was standing. It was the look she had been wishing to see sent her way since she had first met him. But it never seemed like the right circumstances.

She had imagined all kind of scenarios for this moment. Everything from him saving her again to what he would have done if she had actually died. Some of the stuff she could come up with in her head was really fucked up. But she couldn't help it. She loved him even though she had never said it out loud to anyone. She loved him to the bottom of her heart.

The past few months she had tried to get over him. She had tried to live her life to the fullest without thoughts of him. Half of it was because she knew everything mind end at any minute and half of it was because she was too worn out. Pining after him and always worrying and thinking about him wore her out more and more every day. The past few months had killed her because she hadn't heard from him.

She told herself she had to understand why he hadn't called. But then again, Sam had found the time to call a few times. Sam had given her and her mother the details. He had told her in secret everything she needed and wanted to know about Dean. Some of it she hadn't liked. And she definitely wished she could have been with him for some of it.

And now here he was, sitting in front of her looking like shit. She couldn't have asked for more.

Except maybe for all his pain to go away.

"We don't have to talk about that now," she said quietly. She reached out carefully and laid a hand on his shoulder. He didn't look up from the spot he was staring at on the floor. He was probably still thinking about Sam.

"Let's go get you cleaned up and into bed. Here," she shoved the last shot of whiskey at him. She knew he would need it. She watched patiently as he slowly looked up, blinked at the site of the shot, and then picked up and swallowed it in one gulp. "Come on," she encouraged again. She gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze and stood from her bar stool. Her hand slid down his arm and latched onto the hand resting on her knee and she tried to pull him to his feet. It took a few minutes. He had to realize what she was doing and cooperate before she could even get him an inch off the stool.

When he was on his feet, she draped his arm around her shoulders for added stability. He was heavy but they made it to the stairs. He was so out of it, lost in his own world. It scared her but at the same time she didn't expect anything less. How else were you supposed to act after losing your own flesh and blood?

She had probably acted that way when her father had died. She couldn't really remember now. She expected it was much the same situation.

"You'll never believe what Ash did the other day," she found herself saying. She forced a grin onto her face before she looked up at Dean. He showed no knowledge that he was listening but she continued anyway. "He convinced some seventeen-year-old girl into his bed…." She trailed off for a few minutes and giggled a little to herself. "It was three in the morning when her daddy showed up lookin' for her. Momma had to aim the shot gun at him so he'd let Ash go. It was not a pretty site."

She turned her smile up at him again and to her surprise he was looking down at her. His eyes were trained on her mouth and she tried to keep her heart from skipping a beat. It wasn't right to take advantage of a man who had just lost his brother.

She told herself that's why she looked away.

"Here," she steered him towards a closed door on the left when they got up the stairs. "This is the best extra bedroom." She opened the door with her free hand and continued to lead him inside. The springs in the bed squeaked when Dean let himself fall onto it. She was grateful to have his weight off of her and stopped for a few seconds to roll her shoulders.

"I'm gonna get some water and stuff to clean up your hands. Stay here." She watched him for a few seconds before she actually left the room. He was back to staring at the floor. She wanted, no needed, to help him out of this. She just wasn't sure how to yet.

She would start by giving him some pain killers and washing him up a bit. And then she would make him sleep for a while. It was a start and it would allow her to figure out what she was going to do for him the next day and the day after that…

When she came back to the room, he wasn't staring at the floor anymore. Instead, he was staring a picture frame in his hands. And smiling down at it.

It was only when she got closer that she realized it was an old picture of her and her dad. Way back when, she remembered, this had been her room. And that must have been a photo that was left behind.

"You were cute when you were younger." He voice was raspier than normal and for a second she thought about getting him some more whiskey. But that could wait. At least now he was talking again and not in his own little world.

"You're gap teeth are the best part."

She mock glared at him as she sat down next to him on the bed and put the bowl of water on the night stand.

"I'm glad I grew out of that stage." She took a quick peek at the photo and shuddered. Her hair was almost white it was so blonde and it was up in pig tails. Her dad was bent over with his arm around her shoulders and she had a big stupid grin on her face, her tongue sticking through the hole where her two front teeth had been. She looked like an idiot.

"That was three months before he died," she found herself saying. She shuddered and grabbed the picture from Dean's hands and put it on the night stand. "Let me see your hands." She didn't look up to see his reaction. She didn't really need to. He was back in his own little world again because she had fucked up and mentioned death. She was going to have to watched what she said from there on out. Any little thing could remind Dean of what had happened and what he had lost.

"This might hurt," she whispered soothingly as she dipped the white wash cloth into the water and rung it out. She pressed it gently to his knuckles and started wiping way the dirt, grime, and blood.


	3. Steam

**Sorry it's so short but I really want to put emphasis on everything that is happening. I don't want to shove a lot of stuff in one chapter.**

The water in the shower was scalding hot but Jo couldn't make herself care. To her it felt like the steam from the water was breaking up her thoughts like it breaks up a bad cough. To her, the water was helping her pull herself together. After everything that had happened within the last four hours, she needed to pull herself together.

What she really wanted to do was fall apart.

She wanted to fall apart for herself and for Dean. And especially for Sam who had given his life to save the whole world. It was a selfless act, no doubt about that. But Sam had left Dean behind, or a semblance of Dean. Dean wasn't really Dean anymore. Dean was a broken, shattered shell of the person he had once been.

In her mind, she thought this was worse than what Dean had been like when he'd first gotten back from hell. She couldn't be sure, of course, because Dean and Sam had both kept her out of the situation and anything she did hear about were lies.

After cleaning his hands, giving him a few more shots of whiskey, and basically throwing the strongest pain meds they had down his throat, Dean had fallen into a restless sleep in the extra bedroom. She had staid with him for a good half hour, watching him twist and turn in his sleep. She knew the nightmares were hitting him pretty hard but with all the effort it had taken to get him to fall asleep in the first place, she really didn't want to wake him again.

It had taken another fifteen minutes to convince herself that taking a shower would be ok. She decided to use the bathroom a couple doors down from the room Dean was staying in instead of the bathroom she usually shared with her mother by her room. That way if anything really did happen, she would be close to Dean for whatever he needed.

Now that she was clean and burnt to the bone, she knew what needed to be done. First things first: get some sleep and in the morning she would make Dean breakfast. They would go from there, she decided. She would do whatever Dean felt like doing. If that meant letting Dean sleep most of the day away, she would do it.

She remembered how hard it had been to take care of her mother after her father had passed. Jo had been young but not too young to step up and help her mother through the grieving process. Of course that meant that Jo hadn't gotten a real grieving process of her own, but family came first to her. Family would always come first.

When she opened the shower door the steam spilled out into the bathroom, filling the tiny room and sticking to the walls. She reached out with a dripping hand to grab the towel hanging next to the shower and wrapped it around her body.

It wasn't until after she had stepped out onto the plush rug outside the shower that she realized she wasn't alone in the bathroom.

"Jesus, Dean!" She exclaimed without even thinking. The hand holding her towel securely around her body tightened and her empty hand came up to brush the wet hair out of her eyes. "You scared me," she finished quietly.

He was leaning against the sink, his feet crossed at the ankles and his arms resting outstretched behind him against the porcelain. His head was down. She couldn't see the expression on his face or the look in his eyes. She simply knew that this wasn't a sexual visit. Dean had made his way into the bathroom for something else, for some other reason.

She didn't speak. She thought it best to wait. He would tell her when he wanted to and not a moment sooner.

She leaned backwards and shivered at the feel of the cold wall touching her back.

"I woke up," he finally started, "and I thought it had all been just one big nightmare…" he trailed off and cleared his throat a few seconds later. "And then I looked around and everything came flooding back to me at once. It wasn't a dream. Sammy's dead." He paused again. The more he spoke, the more she could hear the pain in his voice.

She wanted to reach out to him but stopped herself. She would let him come to her. The last thing he needed was to be smothered with comfort and touches. It wouldn't help him. It wouldn't ease the pain of losing a brother.

"I looked for you but you weren't there." He still didn't look up and she felt her heart catch. That one sentence put everything in perspective for her. He was really depending on her to help him, to get him through this.

"I thought you'd sleep for a little while longer," she said softly, as if not to disturb the air around them. "I wanted to take a quick shower while you were asleep."

"Will you come back?" He asked after a moment's pause. "To the bed I mean. I don't want to sleep alone."

She let the corner of her mouth turn up a little, even though she knew he couldn't see it. His face was still turned down, his eyes still staring intently at his feet.

"Why don't you follow me down the hallway to my room. There's a double bed so they'll be room for both of us."

She watched him intently for response and barely picked up on a nod of his head. She nodded her own and reached for the doorknob, pulling the door open with a soft whoosh. She shivered when her damp body was met with the frigid air and her feet fell on hardwood floor of the hallway. Her room was just down the hallway and around the corner. She headed that way only to pause a few seconds later to make sure Dean was following her.


	4. Break Her

She opened the door to her room but didn't turn on the light. Instead, she let her eyes adjust to the darkness inside before stepping out of the way.

"You can go ahead and take the bed," she said quietly as she stared down at her feet. She expected Dean to fight and say something about how he should take the floor but she didn't hear a word out of him as he walked past her and into her room. She followed a few seconds after him, trying to wrap her head around this new Dean she was having to deal with.

"I'm just gonna get changed."

She moved to her dresser that was pressed up against the far side of the room, right across from the bed, and pulled open the middle drawer, her underwear drawer. She groped around in the dark until her hand fell on a pair of underwear instead of a pair of socks. She struggled to pull them on while still keeping her towel wrapped around her body. She wanted to turn around and see if Dean was watching her but she held herself back with all her might. It really didn't (shouldn't) matter right now if Dean was trying to get a peek of her naked.

That was the least of her problems.

She pulled a pair of socks out next and slipped them on her feet before closing the middle drawer and moving to the bottom drawer where she kept all of the pants she slept in. Most of them were pairs of sweatpants she had had since she was sixteen. She usually went more for comfort than anything else. Who was sleeping in her bed that she had to impress? Usually it was only her.

But this time…

She shook the thought off as she snatched the first pair of sweatpants her fingers came into contact with. They looked gray from what she could see in the dark. As she guided them over her feet and then over her calves she also had to tell herself to forget about the fact that she was wearing one of her pairs of lacy underwear that she usually saved for special occasions like the few times she actually got to go out and have fun. This was not the time or place to be having such thoughts.

The bed squeaked behind her and she turned a little, catching Dean's almost glowing eyes in the dark. So he had been watching her. She tried to fight the blush that was creeping onto her cheeks and cleared her throat and turned back around. Of course he had been watching. There wasn't anything else interesting in her room and he probably couldn't fall asleep.

She tried to shrug it off as she reached into her top drawer and pulled out an old t-shirt. She hesitated for only a few second before letting the towel drop to pull around her feet. Heat seemed to spread over her whole body as she stood in front of her long time secret love Dean Winchester. Never in her life would she have guessed this would happen. But here she was. And there he was.

And the heat subsided as she put her arms through the leaves and covered her breasts with the thin cotton material that read "Harvelle's". When she was sure her blush was gone, she turned around to face the bed. Dean was still staring at her as if he had never stopped. And he probably hadn't.

Her feet carried her silently to the bed and once there she boldly rested a knee by Dean's hip before hoisting the other knee above and over him, almost straddling him before throwing herself onto the mattress on the other side of him. She struggled with the covers for a minute until she finally got them to cover her to her waist and then she let out a long sigh.

"Go to sleep Dean," she said softly.

"Jo, your mom wants your….help in the kitchen."

Ash's words had slowly trailed off before beginning again when he reached Jo's room to find her in bed and cuddling with a certain Winchester, the only Winchester that was still alive that was. He shook his head at himself. Sometimes, he really couldn't believe the thoughts running through his head.

Jo's head was resting on Dean's naked chest and one of her legs was thrown over and resting on his hips. In return, Dean's arm was wrapped around Jo's shoulders, almost for dear life, and his head was resting on the top of her bent one. In that moment, they looked like the perfect couple. In that moment, they looked like they belonged together. But half of Ash knew it was only because Dean had lost his brother and if wasn't for that Dean would have never come back to Jo. The other half of Ash liked to believe Dean would have made his way back eventually and that this was how it was meant to be.

He never knew if he would ever find out the truth.

"Jo!" He said again, louder this time. "Your mom needs you and I think you better get down there before she comes looking for you herself," he added pointedly. The last sentence seemed to get her attention and her eyes slowly blinked open.

"Ok," she grumbled, her voice hoarse from sleep. "I'm up."

She motioned him away with a flick of her wrist before slowly peeling her cheek away from Dean's hot chest. She wasn't exactly sure how they had ended up sleeping like this or when Dean had lost his shirt, but she couldn't really say she wasn't enjoying the view or the feel of his bare skin under her hands. There were only so many things she could stop herself from thinking about when it came to Dean.

She slowly pulled her leg from across his hips and then paused. She really wanted to try and make it out of bed without waking Dean. He needed all the rest he could get at this point, especially since he was having so many nightmares.

She could remember that part. He had woken up at least twice during the night in a panic. She knew he was probably dreaming about how he had lost Sam and it hurt her to know he had to relive it over and over again. She wished she could do something for him like stop the dreams or even ease the hurt. But the wound was still fresh and it would be for a while.

She decided her best course of action would be to climb over him again, but this time with a little more grace and carefulness. She swung her leg back over his hips again until she was straddling him and then slowly started to move her other leg to follow. She as she was almost ready to get off the bed when Dean groaned a little and reached out with his hand, groping the side of the bed that she would have been sleeping on had Ash not woken her up.

He was looking for her. Sure, he was still half asleep but he was still looking for her…

She squashed the idea quickly and practically threw herself off the bed and out the door. She shut it gently behind her. She turned to make her way downstairs but was stopped by the vision of her mother, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyebrows raised.

"What was that about?" Her mother asked, a dangerous hitch in her voice.

"What was what about?" Joe asked smoothly. She shrugged her shoulder for emphasis.

"Creeping out of your room like a mouse and then shutting the door gently behind you instead of slamming it like you usually do."

Her mother didn't miss a thing. But Jo thought quickly.

"Well, Dean's sleeping right down the hall so I didn't want to slam my door. He needs as much sleep as he can get right now and I'm sure he would hear it if I slammed my door…"

The look her mother was giving her told her Ellen didn't believe her for one second.

"I already checked the spare room where Dean is supposed to be sleeping." Ellen's eyes leveled and her eyebrows dropped into a threatening look. "There's an empty bottle of scotch on the bedside table and Dean is no where to be found. You wouldn't happen to know where he is, would you?"

Oh shit. Jo knew she didn't even need to answer the question. Her mother already knew where Dean was. Her mother was too smart not to know.

"It's not that big of a deal," Jo said sternly. "He couldn't sleep. He kept having nightmares. He just wanted someone there to remind him what's real." She gave her mother a pleading look but didn't exactly know why. She wasn't sure why she was explaining anything to her mother. It wasn't really any of her business. It wasn't like Dean and her had done anything anyway. He had just slept in her room.

"Joanna," her mother began, "He's not in the right state of mind. I can't have him doing something stupid that's going to hurt you."

"Like what? What would he possibly do to hurt me?" As soon as she asked the question she felt dumb. She knew exactly what her mother was talking about.

Her mother didn't want Dean using Jo sexually to try and get over his brother's death or to try and make him forget because he mother knew that Jo was in love with him and that Dean using her like that would break her.


	5. Drunk and Lonely

**Author's Note: Despite getting only little feedback on this story, I'm continuing. Like I said before, a lot of people have this story on their alert list so I'm taking that as a good sign.**

Dean hadn't left Jo's room all day.

It didn't matter what she tried to get him to get out of bed. All he did was sit against the headboard, pillow behind his back, and stare at the wall. Every time Jo took a break from bar duties or cleaning up the house, she would go check on him.

And he would be doing the same thing every time she went in. He wouldn't even move to the guest room. He said he was comfortable where he was.

The last time she had checked on him, she had finally found him in a different position. He was sitting up, on the edge of the bed, holding the picture of her and her father in his hands. He was just staring at it, like the picture held all of the world's secrets.

At first she had wanted to storm into the room and snatch the picture from his hands. She had let him look at it once but that didn't mean it was his hold, his to look at whenever he wanted. What if he dropped it? Shattered the frame?

She had forced herself to get over her initial reaction and instead asked him if he was ok. He had just nodded at her, like staring at her picture without blinking was completely normal. She stayed in the room for a few more minutes, just to see what he would do, but he just kept staring at the picture, unblinking, unmoving.

Now, he had finally come down. But he had only come down for one thing and one thing only…beer.

He was nursing his third at a table in a dark corner of the bar. She wasn't sure if it was because he didn't want anyone in the bar to recognize him or if he just really wanted his privacy. For all she knew, it could have been a combination of the two. Either way, she had been checking up on him every once in a while to see if he wanted anything else or if he needed another beer. He didn't seem to be bothered by the noise level in the bar or by the other patrons that were grabbing at her left and right, trying to get his attention.

He just kept staring off into nothing and drinking his beer.

"We're gonna go broke if you keep feeding him drinks like that," Ellen said as she wiped down the bar. It was nearing midnight and business was slowing down. Most of the hunters cut out early to keep a good nights rest and the rest were usually regulars that stayed until close.

"Mom," Jo said, a warning in her tone. She wasn't about to let her mother give Dean a hard time about how much he was drinking. He needed it. It had still only been a couple days. Dean was still in the fresh stages of grieving and if he needed a little alcohol to help him get by, Jo wasn't going to object. He had come to her for help and she was going to take care of him. Because she cared.

"Ricky needs a fresh beer," Ellen said, completely ignoring the previous conversation she had started herself. She turned around and grabbed a Budweiser from one of the coolers. She popped the top off with one swift move and then handed the bottle to Jo.

Jo moved swiftly towards Ricky's table in the middle of the bar, but not before giving her mother the stink eye first. Ricky was a regular. As an ex-hunter, he liked to stay involved in what was going on in the supernatural world. He was always hanging around talking to hunters, getting the scoop and listening to stories. Ricky had been through the ringer and it showed. He was still fairly young at forty-five but like Dean, he had been hunting since his teenage years. He had seen a lot and done a lot of things he wasn't proud of, things he only talked about when he got really drunk.

Tonight was one of those nights. He was clearly drunk off his ass but Jo knew Ellen wasn't about to turn him away. Ricky always made it home on his own and he always paid his tab at the end of the week. He was a good customer who kept things simple and to the point, just the way Ellen liked it.

"Here you go, Ricky," she said as she set the new beer in front of him and picked up the old bottle. She had started to walk away when Ricky's hand reached out and grabbed a hand-full of her ass.

This wasn't the first time it had happened and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Ricky always got a bit handsy when he was really drunk and Jo took it in stride every time.

"What did I tell you the last time you did that?" She asked as she spun on her heel to face him. Ricky was smirking at her and answered her question with a shrug of his shoulders.

"I told you I'd break your hand," she answered herself. She set the empty bottle back on the table before moving forward in a threatening manner. Ricky's smirk immediately disappeared and was replaced by a serious look.

"Alright, alright," he said quickly. She stopped short and glared at him for a few seconds. This was always what occurred after he grabbed her ass. She would either threaten to break his hand or start to and he would quickly back off. She never actually did it and hoped she never would have to. One threat usually kept him from trying it again for a couple of weeks.

"You always let men handle you like that?" She heard Dean ask as she walked by him to clean another table.

She looked over at him with a glare, knowing where he was going with that comment. "He's just drunk and lonely. He's a lot more like you than you think," she said swiftly.

"Don't compare me to that asshole," Dean growled.

She scoffed at him. He had only had three beers. There was no reason for him to be acting like this. She didn't grace him with another response and turned away from him, going back to collecting the empty beer bottles and glasses on the table in front of her.

"What the fuck!" She yelled suddenly as she felt another person grab her ass. She dropped the stuff in her hands back on the table and turned around, ready to swing. Dean was standing behind her with only about three inches between them.

"What?" He said gruffly. His eyebrows were knitted but the rest of his face was stony. "I'm drunk and lonely. Why can't I grab your ass too?"

She slapped him before she realized what she was doing. The sound of it seemed to reverberate through the room and everyone still in the bar grew quiet. Her hand stung and Dean's cheek was quickly starting to turn red. Half of her regretted her decision but the good half of her was glad she had done it. She understood he was hurting, but she was going to let him treat her like trash because of it.

"You're not drunk," she whispered harshly, hoping no one else in the bar could hear her. "You're just hurting and trying to take it out on one of the only people left who cares about you." She knew that part would hurt him. A lot. She immediately regretted it but instead of apologizing she turned away from him and almost ran to the empty back room.

A few minutes later she finally heard the chatter from the bar start up again and she sighed and leaned her head back against the cabinet behind her. She closed her eyes and put her hand over them. She was tense, tenser than she had been in a long time. She wished Dean could understand that he wasn't the only one hurting. She was hurting, too. She was hurting because he was hurting. She hated seeing him like this. But Dean was too blinded by his own grief to see that.

It was exactly what her mother was talking about. Dean was hurting her and he didn't even know it. Not really.

Maybe she just needed to get out of her. Maybe she needed some fresh air and a break. She didn't want to leave Dean at his weakest hour but it wasn't like he really wanted her around to help. All he really wanted was alcohol and a bed to stay in. He could probably care less if she was around to try and make him feel better or not. He probably didn't need her hanging around with her schoolgirl crush anyway.

_I can talk to Ash_, she thought to herself as she let out another sigh. _He can set me up with a hunt nearby to help clear my head and let off some steam_.

"Don't touch me," she said quickly as she felt the air around her shift. She hadn't heard any footsteps but she could feel someone standing in front of her. She moved her hand away from her eyes and nearly jumped out of her skin to find Dean staring back at her, his whole body only a few inches from hers again.

"I-" He started, but cut himself off. For a few seconds it looked like he was struggling with himself to find the right words and then his face returned to its usual stony look. "I'm sorry. I guess it was just a bit of the green monster."

"Don't make up stupid lies for your behavior, Dean," she spat angrily. He really expected her to believe that he had acted out of jealousy?

"I'm serious, Jo."

It felt like he had gotten even closer to her, if that was possible.

"When I saw him grab you like that, I felt something. It was something I haven't felt…in so long."

She glanced up at him as she tried to ignore the feel of the heat radiating off of him. He was so close to her, just at her fingertips. And he was saying he had been jealous? He was jealous of some old drunk guy that got to grab her ass without consequences? He was crazy.

_He was crazy._

"You're hurting right now, Dean. You're not in the right state of mind. You're imagining things. You don't feel anything for me now just like you didn't feel anything for me when we first met."

_Maybe a hunt wasn't such a bad idea._


End file.
